


Life Just Happens

by WriterGirl128



Series: Falling Slowly [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Break Up, Brownies and Comfort, Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Internal Conflict, Mostly Eddie/Iris centric sorry, Pining, it had to be done, mostly angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 22:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3399332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterGirl128/pseuds/WriterGirl128
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iris wound up at home. It was almost an instinct to her now—things get bad, and she goes home, to her dad and to her best friend and to a place where support was natural and love was unconditional.</p>
<p>Love. That one simple word was making her life so damn complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life Just Happens

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this one I have to admit is mostly angst and Eddie/Iris-centric because there can't be a slow burn if one of the two is dating someone else, right? Gah, it had to be done. (Sorry to all of those Eddie/Iris shippers out there!) Unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine!

Iris wound up at home. It was almost an instinct to her now—things get bad, and she goes home, to her dad and to her best friend and to a place where support was natural and love was unconditional.

Love. That one simple word was making her life so damn complicated.

There was no one else home, both her dad and Barry at work, so she just let herself in with her own key, like she had done so many times before. It didn’t feel weird, doing this, even if she hadn’t been living there anymore. No matter where she was residing, this was her home. The place where her dad took in a sad kid who had lost everything and made him part of the family, the place where he’d raised them to be who they are today. It would always be home.

Iris ended up on the couch, still in her work clothes because even though she wanted to change into comfort clothes she just couldn’t find enough energy to. She wanted brownies. Or Barry. Either would work at that moment, honestly. She just needed something that made her feel like the world wasn’t ending.

It had been a normal day for Iris at work. She worked alongside some brilliant yet inherently jerky people that she’d finally adapted to ignoring (the snide comments shot at the new girl had driven Iris crazy), and she had deflected questions about the Flash the way she had been for the past month. Part of her was starting to feel guilty that she almost singlehandedly put the Flash in the spotlight, which she’d apologized to Barry about a number of times (“Iris, no, don’t worry about it, honestly. It was bound to happen at some point anyways, right?”) but no matter how hard she tried to shy away from it, it followed her everywhere.

She had to give Barry credit—as angry as she was about him lying to her, keeping a secret this big was proving to be a lot more difficult than she’d anticipated. Not hard enough that she couldn’t handle it, no, but hard enough that she found herself having to really think through what she’s saying before typing it out for an article. Is it too revealing? Does it give away anything that ought not to be given away? Is there anything that screams “IT’S BARRY ALLEN” in big block letters?

Knowing Barry was the Flash was making reporting on the Flash a lot more difficult than she had thought.

But that wasn’t why Iris was having a bad day. No, scratch that—a horrible day. A horrible, mind-numbing, stomach churning, heart wrenching day that she honestly wished she could erase from her mind completely.

It happened on her lunch break. Every Tuesday and Thursday Iris brought lunch to Eddie over at the precinct. Or, well—every Tuesday and Thursday since they told Joe about their relationship, that is. And like every other Tuesday, Iris headed down to find Eddie and give him lunch, spend some time with him until she had to go back to her own job. It was a routine that they’d fallen into. Until that day, that is. Eddie just looked at the bag in Iris’s hands, smiled a little sadly and took her elbow, leading her into one of the empty rooms in the back with a tension in his shoulders Iris hadn’t seen in him in a long time.

“Eddie?” she’d asked, once he’d closed the door quietly. “Are you okay?” Her heart fluttered a bit—she had a really bad feeling about this, her stomach in knots.

Eddie ran a hand over his face wearily, turning away for a moment before facing her again. His eyes were sad, almost, a little reserved. “Iris, we need to talk.”

Then Iris’s stomach sank. Those were never good words to hear. Immediately, her mind started analyzing, assessing their interactions from the past couple of weeks, wondering what had changed, what she’d done wrong. Internally, she braced herself for the worst, not understanding what exactly had gone wrong, what she’d done to earn a “we need to talk” conversation opener.

Externally, though, she fought to keep herself collected. She placed the lunch she’d brought Eddie on the table, and forced herself to smile a little. “Am I in trouble?” she asked him, and okay, maybe it wasn’t the most appropriate time to go for the light charming, but it kind of just happened before she could catch it.

Eddie sighed, then, dropping his arms to his sides tiredly. “I don’t know, Iris,” he said, and his voice brimmed with honesty. “Are you in trouble?”

Iris didn’t quite understand what he meant. She felt her eyebrows draw together, her heart hammering in her chest. The way Eddie was looking at her made guilt twist in her stomach. “Eddie, I don’t think I know what you mean…” She trailed off, unsure of what she was supposed to be saying.

Eddie sighed again, this time taking her now free hands in his own. The feeling of his fingers around hers didn’t comfort her like she thought they would, like they usually did. The touch was more careful, more reserved than normal, and for a moment, it was almost as if Iris could feel the tension between them just through their fingertips. 

“I love you, Iris,” Eddie said after a long moment, and his voice was quiet and a little sad, and Iris’s feet became heavy because suddenly she knew exactly where this was going. And it broke her heart. “I do,” Eddie continued, squeezing her hands. “I am completely in love with you, Iris West. And I never want to see you hurting.”

Iris swallowed, looking down at their intertwined hands instead of his face because his light eyes were so sad and his eyebrows had that little anxious crease between them and she didn’t know if she’d be able to bear it that much longer. “But…” she pressed on, her own voice quiet as well. She swallowed hard.

Though Iris wasn’t looking at him, she could tell he was smiling a little bit, a sad, heartbroken smile. “But we both know that things…” he trailed off for a moment, finding his words. “Things aren’t the way they used to be. Aren’t the way they’re _supposed_ to be.”

Eddie gave Iris a look, then, that made her want to sink into the floor—she knew exactly what that look meant. “This is about Barry,” she inferred timidly, because _God,_ she had no idea how she felt about Barry Allen these days. And it didn’t really matter right now, because she knew she loved Eddie, and he was here, and Barry wasn’t, and Eddie was hurting, and it was because of Iris.

Iris had to look at him, now, praying that he could see in her eyes all of the love she was seeing in his. Eddie squeezed her hands a little, the warmth of them making her fingers tingle. “He’s in love with you,” Eddie said, and honestly, Iris wasn’t surprised he knew. She hadn’t told him about Barry’s confession (pretty much to avoid what, Iris assumed with a heavy heart, was happening now), but he always was a little bit suspicious.

Iris swallowed hard. “I know he is,” she said quietly, hating the way the words made Eddie’s sad little smile wobbly.

“And I know you love me,” Eddie continued, then, dropping her hands to brush the hair out of her face. “I do, I know. But I think you’re falling a little in love with him, too.”

Iris’s heart sunk, the words echoing in her mind for a moment, freezing the world around her. She loved Barry—but she wasn’t in love with him. He was her best friend. Granted, they’d been spending more time together than ever, now that there were no more secrets in the air, but still. She wasn’t falling in love with her best friend. At least, she didn’t think she was.

“Barry’s my best friend, Eddie,” Iris said, her voice desperate. “He’s _just_ my best friend. He’s not—”

“It’s okay, Iris,” Eddie said, then, and it felt like someone had ripped Iris’s heart out and stomped on it, because she suddenly knew there was no way of avoiding what was about to happen. “It is. I don’t blame you—and for the record, I don’t blame him, either. I just want you to be happy, Iris. That’s all I want for you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

Iris opened her mouth to speak, to apologize, to plead for him to listen—to tell him that he was wrong, and that she was in love with him, not Barry, and that _he_ was the one that made her happy…but for some reason, she couldn’t find her voice.  She swallowed hard, and her eyes stung.

Eddie shook his head a little. “I don’t want to hurt you, Iris. I never want you to be hurting. But I think before we go any farther, you really need to see if he can make you happier than I can. If he can’t, then that’s great, and I’m here, and I’m always going to love you and try to give you the best life that I can. But if you really are happier with him?” he asked, and then—here’s the amazing part—his smile grew, just a fraction. “Then that’s great too. As long as you are getting the best out of life, then I am totally supportive of it. Okay? I’m not…I’m not angry, Iris, or upset, and it’s no one’s fault. Life just happens, sometimes, and you can’t control it all the time. But you can control what you get out of it.”

Tears blurred Iris’s vision for a moment, and she pressed her lips together to try and keep them at bay. Her heart was breaking and soaring at the same time—how could she have possibly come across someone as great as Eddie? She hated how much she was hurting him, but something he’d said rang through her head, “ _Life just happens_ ,” and over and over and over again she couldn’t help but see Barry’s face in her mind, with those stupid big caring eyes and that dorky grin that made her stomach fill with butterflies. The way he takes every bad thing that happens to him and grasps to get something good out of it. And she had to admit, maybe Eddie was right. Maybe she was falling a little in love with Barry Allen.

She shook her head then, a few tears spilling over and rolling down her cheeks despite her efforts to hold them back. “I’m so sorry, Eddie,” she said hoarsely, finally finding her voice. “I didn’t mean…I’m so sorry.”

And then Eddie was hugging her, and damn it, why did he have to be such a good guy? Why couldn’t he have just been a jerk about it? It would’ve made this entire ordeal a whole lot easier. But no, he rubbed her back in little circles and murmured into her hair that it was okay, that it wasn’t her fault, that people love who they love and that it’s a beautiful thing.

The rest of it blurred together. After some tears and apologies from both sides, Eddie had to go back to work, and Iris had to go back to work, which really meant just hiding at her desk and trying not to cry because she was so damn confused. She didn’t know what she was going to do about Barry, and she didn’t want Eddie to be hurt, and nobody warned her that love was going to be this painful.

Which is how she ended up back at home, sitting alone on the couch, emotionally drained and trying to keep her world from falling apart. She must have been there for at least an hour before she heard the door opening, and when she turned and saw that it was Barry, she was almost relieved. She’d rather not have to explain all of this to her father, just yet, if she could help it.

At first, Barry saw her and grinned. Then he saw the expression she knew she wore, and her probably puffy eyes, and his grin faded in an instant, dropping his bag down. “Iris?” he asked carefully. “Iris, are you okay?”

He took a seat next to her on the couch, still wearing his jacket and shoes and everything, and _God,_ why did he have to care so much? His eyes were soft and concerned, his fingers brushing lightly over hers for comfort, and it made Iris’s chest tighten a little as if she was still crying. His hands were big and strong looking, and they always shook a little when Barry was nervous, ever since they were little, and they were shaking now, and Iris was glad that that was something the lightning bolt hadn’t changed.

“Yeah,” she said, even though she knew she was totally, completely not okay. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

When did Barry go from being her dorky best friend to being…something more?

He raised an eyebrow at her, then, not buying it. Iris loved him for that. “Iris, I’m pretty sure we both know that’s a lie.” Then his voice softened a little, and his thumb rubbed little circles into her arm and the motion sent something like sparks up her arm. “What happened?”

She sighed a little, putting on her bravest face. “Eddie broke up with me,” she admitted, trying to ignore the way saying the words out loud made it all come crashing down around her again. “He, uh—he said things weren’t going the way they’re supposed to be.”

Barry’s eyes got sad—genuinely, sincerely sad, and they quivered a little with emotion. “Oh, Iris, I’m so sorry. Did he say why…” he trailed off then, when Iris gave him a look, and realization dawned in his eyes like a storm breaking over the horizon. He shook his head, then, steeping his hands together in front of his face before moving them to rub the back of his neck. “Please tell me it wasn’t because of me.”

Something about the way he say it made guilt clench painfully in Iris’s stomach. She didn’t want Barry to feel bad about this—if anything, it was _Iris_ who should be feeling guilty. She was the one who couldn’t figure out her feelings. She sighed slowly, even though they both knew the answer. “It’s not your fault,” she assured him, even though he winced and looked down anyways. “Hey, Bear—it isn’t your fault. Seriously.”

“You guys were so happy together,” Barry said, and shook his head. “I can’t believe I messed it up for you. I’m so sorry, Iris.”

“Hey,” she chastised him, “stop that. I told you, it isn’t your fault. Life…” she swallowed hard. “Life just happens. It’s no one’s fault.”

“Iris—”

“Honestly, Barry. It’s okay. And he isn’t angry—at either of us. It just…is, I guess.”

Barry made a face, then, a pained, guilty face where his eyes sparkled with concern and love and he bit the inside of his lower lip, and it made Iris’s stomach flutter because how was she supposed to _not_ love someone as caring and genuine and just so inherently _good_ as Barry?

“What can I do?” he asked then, because he’s Barry and that’s what he does—he helps, and he saves the day over and over again, and he saves Iris over and over again. And not just physically, either, but also emotionally, mentally. He has saved her in so many ways, she’s lost count.

“You,” she told him, sounding much more confident and stable than she felt, “can stay here with me for a while and just be my best friend.”

Barry smiled a little, though it was sad, and Iris could see how much it was hurting him, how guilty he felt about the entire thing. But he shouldn’t feel guilty, Iris thought. Shouldn’t he be happy? Eddie had basically told her to go see if things with Barry would work out, see if she was truly in love with him. Iris wasn’t so sure about that last part, but if the way her stomach calmed when he looked at her like that was any indication…

Iris understood Eddie’s question now, and the answer is _yes._ Yes, she was in trouble.

Maybe it was the coma that did it in for her, Iris considered. Maybe it was the thought of never having Barry in her life again that made her realize how hard it was to ever imagine a life without him in it. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to live in a world without Barry Allen. She’d had a taste of it, a nine month trial period, and it was never something she wanted to relive.

Iris’s stomach churned with guilt. Was that why she’d started things with Eddie? Because she was trying to fill that hole in her heart? She wasn’t sure ,but the thought made her nauseous. Eddie was a fantastic guy who deserved so much better than that. A fantastic guy who took her into his arms whenever she cried about the thought of losing her best friend, who consoled her and comforted her until her eyes were dry and her voice would stop shaking.

But she knew how to be happy without Eddie in her life. She was happy before him, and she knew she could be happy again after him. Barry, on the other hand…

It was almost like, despite how horrible and tragic his mother’s murder was, the aftermath was a blessing in disguise. Barry coming to live with them and becoming part of the family had brought this brightness into the house—brightness that looked a lot like his goofy smile and sounded a lot like science-y sounding ramblings. Iris got a best friend out of it, a person who she could go to for anything and everything. Like when her date to junior prom dumped her to go dance with other girls, and he found her crying in the hallway. He had pulled her to her feet, told her how stupid he was, and made her dance with him until she laughed because Barry cannot dance to save his life, and he damn well knows it. Or when he had spent countless nights helping her study and quizzing her and proofing her work because she just couldn’t _understand_ physics, couldn’t wrap her mind around it, but Barry was Barry and helped her through it and stayed patient and kind and honest with her.

And now—well, now Barry has a whole new layer. He’s _strong._ Where so many people affected by the particle accelerator explosion use their gifts to hurt others, Barry has dedicated a significant part of his life to using his gift to _help_ others. It is such a _Barry_ thing to do, Iris was still a little angry with herself for not figuring it out sooner.

And now they sat in silence, Barry not pushing her to talk unless she wanted to, and for that Iris was eternally grateful. It was one of the many great things about him—he’d never push her into something she didn’t want to do. And when she did want to do something, or wanted to talk about something, he was so open and honest and nonjudgmental, and she couldn’t believe it had taken her this long to realize just how in love with Barry Allen she was.

She couldn’t fathom living a life without Barry in it. But she could imagine, however horrible it sounded, finding happiness again if Eddie wasn’t a part of her life. It was painful, yes—but something in Iris’s gut knew it was the truth. She could be okay without Eddie. She’d never be okay again if she lost Barry.

So she smiled at him a little, and squeezed his hand, and when he squeezed back he smiled a little too, and Iris wasn’t sure if he could see what she was thinking, but it seemed like he could. And his smile grew for a second, almost mischievously, and then the couch shifted a little and he was gone in blur of yellow electricity, and her hand suddenly felt too cold without his in it.

The next time she blinked, he was back, and in his hands he held a plate wrapped in tin foil, and Iris couldn’t help but laugh because of course Barry knew just what to do to get her to feel a little better.

Brownies and Barry.  The two things that almost always helped her keep her world together.  It figures.

**Author's Note:**

> So that happened. Sorry. One more part to this series incoming! Let me know what you think :)


End file.
